


Liar

by Sarahbeara13



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24194938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahbeara13/pseuds/Sarahbeara13
Summary: Louie hates himself because he hates his mom.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 200





	Liar

Louie Duck grew up very, very angry at his mother. From the time he was two years old and the other kids mocked him for not having a mom he had this growing sense of anger towards her. 

Mother's day was always difficult. Dewey went all out, covering his cards for their mother with glitter and stickers and heart doodles and a crude drawing of their mother. "Someday, when she comes home" the middle child had said, an optimistic smile spread across his face "she'll need this". That was what Dewey always said when Louie asked what the point was in making a card for someone who wasn't there to take it. Huey's cards were less extravagant. Neat letters reading 'I love you, mom'. No glitter or stickers or hearts or doodles. When they went home, Huey would always tuck his cards away in a drawer. "You don't really think you'll ever be able to give her your cards?" Louie asked one day because Huey was the most sensible person he knew, and surely he didn't really think their mom was coming home. "No." Huey had answered truthfully "but I like to think she appreciates them anyway". Louie was fairly sure that Huey thought their mother was dead. It was an easier thought than assuming she'd just..decided to abandon her son's. That's what Dewey seemed to think. That she was off doing...something, but that she'd come home one day and everything would be great. Louie couldn't help but wonder how he reconciled his belief that she was alive out there with his belief that she was a good person. Good people didn't abandon their children. 

Sometimes Louie let himself dream. He imagines his mother appearing at their doorstep, arms outstretched. An explanation. An apology. Sometimes he imagines his mother holding his head in her hands and telling him how sorry she is for leaving. That she loves him. It was such an idealistic fantasy, really. But it never got too detailed. Louie could never think of a good enough reason for her to be gone. Occasionally his thoughts drifted into crazy territory. Ideas of Della duck being snatched up by pirates and carried away, no fault of her own. Being called on a mission to save the universe that she couldn't turn down no matter how much she hated to leave her infant son's. Those attempts to reason how Della leaving could be okay was always the thing to snap Louie out of his thoughts. It wasn't okay. Of course she hadn't been kidnapped, of course she wasn't some hero who needed to leave for the greater good. Louie stopped fantasizing when he was six. He thought he'd leave it to Dewey. After all, dreaming about what could have or should have been only served to hurt Louie. He wasn't dumb and optimistic enough to think they'd ever really come true. Holding onto them did him no good. They only left him sobbing into his pillow at three in the morning, wishing that his mom were there to hold him and reassure him. But she never came. Of course she didn't.

Louie waited for his mother for years. He knew she wasn't coming back, but that hope still clung to him like a parasite, feasting on his weakness. And he knew that everyone else was waiting too. With baited breaths. Dewey asked every relative, every friend of their uncle's, every single acquaintance, for some tidbit of information about their mother. And he breathed every scrap he was thrown in like it was the most incredible thing he'd ever heard. Huey kept a picture of Della on their dresser. It was simple, nothing to think twice about most days, but it ensured that none of them ever forgot her face. Donald kept his feelings hidden better than anyone else, but Louie could tell. When they were little Louie called him dad once. He hadn't known better. But Donald did, insisted that he had a mom. As if she was any good while she was gone. But in Donald's head she wasn't gone. In everyone's mind she wasn't really gone. Any moment she would walk through the door and everything would be okay again. It wasn't real. It would never happen. She was gone. Louie didn't get the pleasure of knowing why his mother was gone, why she decided that he wasn't important enough to stick around for, but she was gone nonetheless. Somebody in this house needed to grow up and accept that fact. Louie stopped waiting for her when he was seven.

Once he stopped waiting around he thought that he'd forget her. Louie thought he'd be able to move on, but that's when he started to be angry. Because Dewey still made cards for her birthday and for mother's day and Christmas too. Dewey still smiled and said "she'll need these when she comes back!". And if Dewey could have enough love towards her to think she was out there somewhere, that she had abandoned them, and still forgive her enough to make her cards covered in glitter, then why couldn't she love him enough to be there?!? If Dewey was still expecting her to walk through that door one day why the hell couldn't she make her way to their doorstep and walk through the door?!? And Louie was angry because Huey was so successful. He was on the honor role, he was the top of his Woodchuck troop. With every badge he earned and test he aced, Louie's anger grew. Because their mom should be there. Sometimes he heard Huey talking to a picture of her, telling it everything he'd achieved. Louie wondered if she'd care. Even if she did care, did that make a difference? Huey put pictures up of Della so they'd never forget her face, but why should they remember what she looked like? She didn't even stick around long enough to have any pictures of them to remember. And Donald. That was the worst. They didn't have much money. Donald had to work long hours and he had to skip meals and he cried when he didn't think the boys were watching. But Louie noticed. Once upon a time he'd felt guilty. Donald would be happy if it weren't for him, right? He'd have more money, more time. He'd be healthier. But Louie never chose to be born. It wasn't his fault. It was all Della's fault. Because she wasn't here. She left her brother to raise three children all alone. Louie didn't know if Donald forgave her. He was sure his uncle did, because every time she was brought up there was love in his eyes. But Louie couldn't forgive it. He couldn't just forget the pain she put them all through by leaving. Maybe he was selfish. Maybe he was cruel. Maybe it was an evil, evil thing to hold onto anger. To hate your own mother. Louie didn't know. Sometimes it scared him. Sometimes he couldn't bring himself to care. He was the evil triplet after all, since when did he have to be the picture of morality?

When they were ten and they found out the truth about their mother, it didn't help. It was harder to hate her. It was harder to hate a woman who didn't plan to leave. But his anger didn't subside. Neither did the pain. She chose to get into that rocket. She picked that over her children. Surely she would have known that not coming back was a possibility! Surely Donald would have warned her, would have told Della that she had three kids to look after. That running off on some dangerous adventure wasn't a good idea. But she did it anyway! Louie kept that anger inside. Dewey and Huey weren't angry with her. Neither was Donald. Maybe Louie was wrong. Maybe he was insensitive. Maybe he had no right to be angry with somebody he'd never known for a mistake. He was a bad person, he knew. But she couldn't be any better. 

And then she came back. His mother, appearing at their doorstep, arms outstretched. She offered an apology, held his head in her hands, told him she loved him. Louie used to dream about this, didn't he? Used to wish she would come home and that everything could be okay. He'd wanted a mom so badly. Louie would be an idiot not to accept her back now after all those nights he spent sobbing, wishing she'd come home. So then why did it feel so hollow when he said it out loud? Della Duck was everything that his brother's hoped she'd be. Brave, passionate, loving, determined. She was even a Woodchuck. Dewey got to give her all those cards he'd worked on for the past eleven years. She went to Huey's events and cheered for him louder than anybody. Not one person was still bitter or angry. Nobody held a grudge against her. Nobody...except Louie. He tried so hard but no matter what he did he was angry. She left him. She broke Donald's heart. She broke her children for life. Even with her back, the damage was done. She couldn't just...waltz in and expect everything to be like she never left! Except she could. And the closer she grew with everyone else, the easier she fit in with everyone else...the more evil Louie felt for faking it. He was a liar. Every time she hugged or kissed him Louie felt his stomach churn, anger and pain radiating through him. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Why couldn't he just be happy? Louie found himself crying a lot again. 

"Your plans..your schemes...they only lead to bad things for your family. If you wanna be a part of this family, you gotta stop". Louie couldn't help but replay those words in his head. Over and over. For months. The words kept creeping into his brain. He really was a bad person, wasn't he? Louie already knew he was a bad, evil person because what kind of person couldn't forgive their mother who worked so hard to fix her mistakes? But that just solidified it. Maybe Louie couldn't accept her because he didn't deserve that kind of happiness. Didn't deserve a relationship with his mother. Everyone was happy except him, didn't that mean he was the problem? He'd only ever been good at one thing, and it hurt his family. It was bad. He was bad. Louie could fake it, but wouldn't deceiving his family just make him an even worse person? ...maybe they would be better off without him. Louie considered running away more than a few times. Sometimes he considered doing worse.

Even with all the guild he felt. The urge to just give in and let his mom be his mom, he still went to Uncle Donald before her. Whenever he wanted permission for something, whenever he was hurt or scared, whenever he just needed advice. With Della back, Donald didn't need to be their parent anymore. That scared him. He didn't want to lose the only parent he'd ever trusted. Louie often found himself crawling into Donald's bed at night. He knew Donald would never leave him. But the thought still clung to him and wouldn't leave him be. "Are you mad at mom?" Huey had asked him one day. "You never go to her for help or anything. You never hang out with her". Louie felt tears sting his eyes because they were figuring him out. They knew he was a fraud. They were going to see what a horrible, terrible, awful person he was, weren't they? "Is this about when you were grounded?!? You know that's your fault, right?!?" Dewey huffed and Louie tried his best not to sob in front of them. He'd been shot at, threatened by a home invasion from people who aimed to kill them, starved for two days straight with no way to call for help if he needed it. "Your plans..your schemes...they only lead to bad things for your family" a quiet voice in his head chided, and maybe it was Louie's fault. Maybe he deserved it all. Louie ran out of the room, sobbing his eyes out. It was too much. He knew he didn't have to be a crybaby about it. His brother's were right. Della was right. Louie was a bad person who deserved every bad thing that came to him. He was wrong and broken for not being able to forgive their mom. He was evil and everyone would be better off without him.

Louie tried to be useful. Trying to protect his family from danger, helping promote Donald's band, encouraging his brother's to save the world. But it wasn't good enough. He still wasn't a good person. He was still just pretending, and one day everyone was going to realize and hate him for it. Louie used to take pride in his deception skills. Now they just made him sick. "If you wanna be part of this family, you gotta stop" his brain taunted him. Louie didn't know how. He knew he was a terrible person, he was just tricking everyone into thinking otherwise. How does he just..stop faking it, though?!? He didn't know. 

"Uncle Donald?" Louie's voice was smaller than he wanted it to be. He sounded like a scared, helpless little kid. But that was a lie, wasn't it? Tears burned at his eyes. Louie didn't know who else to go to. He didn't trust anybody else. "You know i'm a bad person, right?" he asked. It was the middle of the night. He was interrupting what little time Donald had to himself that he didn't need to waste looking after Louie. "And that i'm a liar?" he choked. "That I..don't...deserve you? Or mom? Or Dewey and Huey??" because he didn't. He was being truthful for once and Uncle Donald was going to be so disappointed in him for deceiving them all. "I put you all in danger and I scheme and lie" he tried to ignore the tears that were bubbling up in his eyes. Uncle Donald looked horrified and that was enough for those tears that he'd been holding back to spill over. Because that was it, now he knew. He had to know. "Louie" Uncle Donald grabbed him and held the small boy to his chest and Louie didn't understand. "You're not a-" but Uncle Donald couldn't just deny the truth! Louie wouldn't let him! He couldn't! "Uncle Donald I don't forgive mom! I don't forgive her for abandoning us or for making you raise us! I don't even know if I love her! Huey and Dewey love her! They forgive her! Everyone forgives her! And it's what she deserves. But I don't because i'm bad!" he wailed. Louie still sounded, even to his own ears, like some sort of scared little kid. Was he still lying? Still putting on an act? It didn't feel like an act. Louie was scared.

Louie wasn't expecting for Donald to stare at him with a mixture of love and pain that he could hardly stand to look at. "Louie, that's okay". Louie saw that his uncle was near tears, but he hardly had a moment to feel guilty for making Donald sad before the man was talking again. "You don't have to want her to be a part of your life. She was gone for eleven years. Weather or not she's a good person doesn't matter." he said gently. And Louie believed him because Louie trusted Donald with his entire heart and soul. "But...Dewey and Huey would be so angry if I didn't let her be my mom" he whimpered "And...and...and...what about her? Wouldn't she yell at me? Hate me for rejecting her after she tried so hard?" Louie was trembling in Donald's arms now. He'd stopped crying, but only because his eyes were too dry to. He hadn't had anything to drink in a few days, come to think of it. Donald sighed, cupping Louie's head in his hands. "Louie, i'll talk to the rest of the family for you. You're a good kid and everything you're feeling is absolutely okay. If you don't want Della to be your mother that's okay. You deserve to be happy, Lou-Lou." a kiss was planted on Louie's forehead, and for the first time in a while he felt warmth flicker through him. "We can talk about this more tomorrow, but for now we need to get you something to drink. You must be dehydrated by now. Then it's off to bed" the fatherly tone in Donald's voice nearly brought tears to Louie's eyes. It felt safe and warm and gentle and secure. "Can I...maybe...stay here tonight?" he asked. This time he didn't criticize himself for sounding as pathetic as he did. "Of course" Donald cooed at him like he was the most precious creature on earth. And part of Louie believed that maybe he wasn't as terrible as he'd thought. As he settled down to sleep, Donald's arms wrapped around him, Louie allowed himself to be happy. "I love you, Lou." he heard his uncle whisper as he drifted off to sleep, and he knew that whatever happened tomorrow, he'd have a parent by his side.


End file.
